A Guide from the Past

This little volume was created in 1240 to serve
as a travel guide for Frederick II on his visit to 
the area around Napoli. It extols the virtues of
the soothing thermal waters of the region.

There is nothing more helpful when planning a trip than a travel guide – and there have been travel guides around since Eve and Adam departed the Garden of Eden. I recall on a visit to the Augustinian Library being shown a 13th century manuscript extolling the virtues of the waters of Pozzuoli near Napoli created for a royal visitor  complete with illustrations. Of course there were no end to the travel guides written for the gilded youth of the Renaissance and Enlightenment as they did the Grand Tour. And American writers of the 19th and early 20th century flooded the bookshops with tales of innocents abroad. And in our own day we’ve seen entire stores devoted to travel guides – Baedeker, Michelin, Lonely Planet etc. – and websites and Apps by the thousands – Trip Adviser et al.

The big decision is always which ones do you use when planning your trip? Which are the most dependable and up-to-date? Which can be used to help plan a trip filled with good wine, great food and incredible sights. And which are simply puff pieces put out by a local tourist authority or even worse an “enterprising” entrepreneur whose research on their subject has been restricted to cut and paste from Wikipedia.

Washington Irving and his Literary Friends at Sunnyside by Thomas Oldham Barlow, 1864
From left to right: Henry T. Tuckerman,  Oliver Wendell Holmes , William Gilmore Simms, Fitz-Greene Halleck, Nathaniel Hawthorne , Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Nathaniel Parker Willis, William H. Prescott, Washington Irving, James Kirke Paulding , Ralph Waldo Emerson, William Cullen Bryant, John Pendleton Kennedy, James Fenimore Cooper, and George Bancroft.

Operating on the theory that thus far they haven’t been far off track I tend to use Booking.com for hotels, Trip Advisor and Lonely Planet for restaurants and Wikipedia as a good general guide to a city/region. However on occasion I wander off to some obscure corner of the virtual or digital bookshelf and to find a livelier, if slightly dated, read on a place of interest.

In the early spring of 1829 Washington Irving, who was living in Madrid at the time, decided to make the arduous trek to Granada along with a friend from the Russian Embassy. After several weeks his friend was recalled to Madrid however Irving stayed on and managed to arrange a billet at the semi-derelict Alhambra until he to was required to leave in late July to fill his appointment as Secretary to the American Legation in London.  His Tales of the Alhambra was published, unusually for the time, simultaneously in England and the US in 1832. That first edition was to contain his colourful – and perhaps in some cases apocryphal (after all this was the man who had us all convinced that in the Middle-Ages people believed the earth was flat) – journey to and stay in Granada. He included a few of the exotic folk stories he had heard from his fellow lodgers at the former Great Red Fortress. He was to expand on these in a later edition (1835) and, as only he could, recounted tales that are a heady – and delightful - mixture of Arabian Nights, Spanish superstition and Andalusian story telling.  One of those tales was to be adapted by Pushkin and surfaced as Rimsky-Korsakov's opera Zolotoy petushok (The Golden Cockerel).

Unlike Irving we had need neither of the boastful Sancho with his blunderbuss to protect us nor of overnight stops as guests in small towns: the comfortable and efficient Renfe service took us on the same route in three hours.  Though it would have been a bit more romantic to have been entertained by the local Alicade and curious townsfolk.

Even the landscape has changed in the two hundred years since Irving made his journey.  Modern irrigation systems have turned what was once barren and treacherous scrub into olive groves almost to the Sierra Nevadas. 

Much has changed since Irving’s journey but much has remained the same. He describes the barren, rocky – and dangerous - road through to the Sierra Madres and the surrounding bleakly beautiful landscape. Though the road (or at least train ride) is less dangerous and the hill and mountainsides are now planted with endless olive groves there are still patches that are barren and bleak. Much of that bleakness and barrenness comes from the industrial sites on the edge of towns where concrete and rusting steel skeletons have replaced hard packed earth and leafless trees silhouetted against the burning sun.

Perhaps Irving would have recognized the names of the five intersecting Calles but I'm sure he
would have been astounded by the buildings and the confusing traffic lights. 

On the winding road up to the Alhambra,  a  local artist has left their mark.

The entrance to the Capilla Real de Granada - the burial place of that
"Servant of God" Isabella the Catholic and her slightly less Catholic
husband Ferdinand. It is a marvel of Spanish-Moorish ecclesiastical
design with a truly magnificent central grill.

Above the Capilla entrance the decorations on the Cathedral show the strong Moorish influence
of the previous rulers of Granada which are apparent throughout the core of Granada.

The entrance to an old and semi-derelict building on a side street
with a gloriously carved Moorish ceiling speaks of the city's past.

 And other than recognizing the Great Cathedral, some of the monasteries and the honeycomb of Calles and Tendrilles in Centro he would have some difficulty finding his way around modern Granada. Broad avenues – with a confusing system of traffic lights that even Irving’s brave muleteer Sancho would have found daunting – are lined with buildings in the grand Spanish style of the 19th-20th century. The narrow roadway up to the Alhambra allows for the passage of one car – right of way controlled by a system of lights – but still allows glimpses of the city spread out below. Some of that spread being the urban sprawl typical to, and identical to, any modern city. What Irving would recognize is the crowds of people on the main streets and down the winding Calles, eating, drinking, battering, selling, buying and socializing the way they did long before he arrived in this little corner of Andalusia.

As dusk falls over the Sierra Nevadas the Alhambra glows like the jewel it is.  A truly glorious sight.

Once at his old residence I have a feeling he’d be, if not lost, then certainly astounded. What was a dusty – howbeit to his eyes romantic – pile of ruins and decaying fortifications, untended gardens and rutted passageways and terraces has been restored to much of its former glory. The remarkable 12th century water system – partially restored by the departing French troops in 1812 and remarked on by Irving - now refreshes and cools all the tile and marble courtyards. Once again it irrigates roses, vines, orchards, sentinel stands of cypress and sculptured rows of myrtle and brings the music of cascading water into fantasy festooned galleries. Much of the splendour he had heard spoken of in the legends told around the table of the aged Dona Antonia and saw crumbling evidence of during his residence has been lovingly and carefully restored. And the work is on going: an eight-year plan to restore the rows of trained myrtle trees in the Generalife is at its halfway point.

One of several of the rooms that Washington Irving lived in during his stay at the Alhambra - a residence he shared with a wonderful cast of eccentrics and local characters.  The fantastical stories they wove over the evening meal and by the fireside are an enchanting mixture of Arabian Nights, Andalusian folklore and religious superstition.

One small suite of rooms has remained largely unchanged since Irving’s departure in late July of 1829. The rooms he occupied in the Nasrid Palace and where he was tended to by little dark-eyed Dolores, the stuttering Pepe and the faithful Matteo – a true son of the Alhambra - are as Spartan as he first found them. Nothing remains of the furnishings – even at the time they were only odds and ends from other rooms – but there is a simple plaque that tells us he stayed and wrote in these rooms. There is even the suggestion that his writings may have been the catalyst that began renewed interest in the once forgotten fortress.

Neither my words nor, unfortunately, my camera could capture the thousands of details that make up the glories of the Nasrid Palace.  The artisans who created the stone, wood and inlay; the architects who meticulously planed the graceful arches, open spaces and cooling waterways; the gardeners who nurtured the groves and floral beds are all anonymous but their work creates a harmony that speaks of a culture advanced far beyond the one that replaced it.

I had the highly romantic notion that it might be possible to follow his path when exploring the palaces, gardens and fortresses that make up the complex: discovering them as he discovered them. However a nighttime visit to the Nasrid Palace meant being restricted to certain areas only; though wandering through the illuminated rooms and gardens did conjure up the magic of the tales he tells. The crowds on a Saturday were even more restrictive and plans to go beyond the Portal of Wine and into the old Fortress had to be abandoned. Plans for another visit perhaps?

Two things that Irving would find unchanged in Granada:  the good earthy taste of salmorejo.  No doubt this simple soup of tomato, garlic and olive oil was a staple in the kitchen of Dona Antonia.  And.....

....  the welcoming charm of a lovely Granaina!  Carolina and her family at La Parrala provide
a warm and friendly atmosphere and homemade dishes paired with great local wines.

Irving is a writer who appears to have fallen out of favour in our time; one critic has referred to his writing as “all style with no substance” – as if style were a fault. For the first time I’ve read beyond The Legend of Sleepy Hollow and Rip Van Winkle and find his style elegant and sophisticated and there is more than enough substance in his prose. Descriptive narrative, history, personal anecdotes, food critiques (perhaps a little out of date where price, location and fare are concerned) and fables mix to paint a picture of one of the treasures of our Western heritage. All delightfully written from a very personal perspective. What more could you ask for from a travel guide?

August 12 - 1676: Praying Indian John Alderman shoots and kills Metacomet, the Wampanoag war chief, ending King Philip's War.

Lunedi Lunacy

With the Fabulous Fabergé, Jeweller to the Czars exhibition le Musée de Beaux-Arts de Montréal has another winner on it's hands. Coming on the heels of the Chihuly last summer and the  Splendore a Venezia this past winter they've come up three for three for intriguing subjects and inspired display designs.

Designs by Hubert Le Gall for the Fabergé exhibition at le Musée des Beaux-Arts de Montréal. 
A subtle progression from Tzarist mysticism to mortality as traced in the work of Carl Fabergé.

The installation for the Fabergé is the work of French designer and sculptor Hubert Le Gall.  His design is a subtle progression from liturgical mystery to rooms reflecting the glint of Imperial jewels to an unsettling sense of the coming fall of the Romanov dynasty.  It's a brilliant piece of work by a master artist.

Le Gall is known for his decor for a series of high profile exhibitions and for his unusual furniture designs.  And it seems only fitting that the Museum Shop include a few of his inspired - and dare I say marevelously lunatic - pieces amongst the fake Fabergé eggs that will be adorning the homes of many a Montreal matron in the coming months.

I'd be delighted to have these two rather antic rabbits pulled out of a hat at my dinner table.

And I'd be tempted to play Jonah to this whale of a chair.

With a knick-knack, paddy whack,
Give a dog a bone;

Or in Le Gall's case a bass lamp?

And finally a little quiz.

Would anyone like to guess what this is?  Yes I knew it's a doggie butt but I mean what useful purpose would it serve in your home decor!

Answer will appear later this week but meanwhile take a guess in the comments.

August 11 - 1942: Actress Hedy Lamarr and composer George Antheil receive a patent for a Frequency-hopping spread spectrum communication system that later became the basis for modern technologies in wireless telephones and Wi-Fi.

The Animals of War

Though the first shots were fired on July 28, 1914 the declarations of a war that was to bring about the downfall of four Imperial powers, change the map of Europe and destroy the lives of millions were not issued until August 3 and 4th. Until that point the tensions that had arisen from the entirely serendipitous assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife Sophie had been more like a family squabble than the prologue to a devastating war that would resound into our current century.  It was only going to last a few weeks but by November of the same year the editor of the Canadian magazine Maclean's wrote, "Some wars name themselves. This is the Great War."

As a nation Canada's first overseas war had been the Second South African War (the Boer War) in 1899; Canada sent troops but the country was bitterly divided along political and provincial lines about joining the conflict.  At the outset Sir Wilfred Laurier, the Prime Minister at the time, sent 1000 soldiers to support the Mother Land; ultimately over 7000 Canadians were to serve in that far away war and 267 were to die.

In 1902 the school children of Ottawa contributed their pennies to pay for a Memorial to citizens of Ottawa who lost their lives in the Second South African War (1899-1902).  It was the first time that the Canadian military were involved in a foreign conflict and it caused deep divisions within the country.  Of the 7000 Canadians (including many nursing sisters) who fought 267 died; amongst them the 16 volunteers from Ottawa whose names are on the memorial.

The dead and lost of that war are remembered in monuments throughout the country - the one in Confederation Park in Ottawa was erected within months of the end of the conflict.  But it took almost a century (2012) before another troop of heroes from the Boer War and their successors in the First and Second World Wars were to be remembered:  the animals in war.

Dedicated in November 2012 this wonderful memorial to Animals in War in Confederation Park was created by David Clendining, a local sculptor.  The three rocks, each bearing a bronze plaque rest on a concrete bases imprinted with paw and hoof prints.  A medical assistance dog stands guard over the memorial - quiet but vigilant:  devoted to his task.

Fittingly the Animals in War Dedication was installed next to the South African War memorial in Confederation Park.  Canada supplied over 50,000 horses for the mounted troops of the combined Commonwealth cavalry in our first international conflict as a nation.  When Britain declared war on Germany one hundred years ago today Canada was automatically brought into the conflict.  The Canadian Expeditionary Force was as volunteer army - conscription was not introduced until 1917 - and first wave of men left Val Cartier in October of 1914 eager to fight "the hun".   Along with them went dogs, horses and mules to once again give support.

For centuries, animals have demonstrated an enduring partnership with humans during times of war.They have served as means of transportation, beasts of burden, messengers, protectors and mascots.Still today, dogs use their unique, sharply tuned instincts to detect mine clusters, and conduct search and rescue operations. We remember the contribution and sacrifice of all animals.

The footprints  of dogs, mules and horses heading into the battlefield are imprinted in the concrete slabs that from the base of the memorial.  Mules carried panniers and artillery; Horses carried mounted troops and hauled field guns; Carrier pigeons delivered messages to specific destinations; and Dogs were used as messengers, medical assistants, bomb detectors, and search and rescue workers.  Even the lowly glowworm served as a source of light for reading maps in the trenches.  They all left their mark on the battlefield and often in the hearts of their human comrades.

This life-sized statue of a medical service dog stands guard over the Dedication. She is wearing an authentic rendering of a medical backpack that dogs carried in the First World War.

Relentless shelling in the First World War (1914-1918) left huge craters of mud and sewage. Horses and mules could best navigate these difficult conditions to supply the front and evacuate the wounded.

At the high school I attended in Winnipeg, there was a large World War I depiction, a painting that hung on the walls. One image was etched indelibly into my mind: teams of horses and mules, eyes inflamed with fear, straining on their harness as they and their human comrades, with their shoulder to the wheel, struggled to free supply wagons stuck in shell holes full of mud.

Lloyd Swick
Animals in War Dedication Project

Horses carried soldiers, and pulled gun carriages, supply wagons and ambulances. Many paid the ultimate price and their loss was mourned by those they served.

This detail is modeled after a painting by Fortunino Matania:  
Goodbye Old Man

There was another painting that hung on that high school wall which was stunning in the emotion it evoked – it remained in my mind throughout all these years.  It has served as an inspiration for the design of the War Animals Dedication Project.

An artist, Fortunio Matania, had been sent to Menin, Belgium to capture the meaning of war. This portrayal was the result. Aptly entitled “Goodbye Old Friend,” it showed a gunner knelt down, holding the head of his horse in his lap, bidding his comrade farewell.  The horse is mortally wounded and awaits death.  Imagine the anguish felt by the gunner, being forced to shoot his companion with whom he shared the hardships of war; a companion with whom he had developed a close bond of friendship, trust, loyalty and admiration. I had read one account of war, where an entire battery, about 150 strong, filed by and kissed their dying horse. Obviously the horse must have been loved and served the battery faithfully over the years.

Lloyd Swick

Animals in War Dedication Project

A few years ago I posted an item on the Animals in War Monument in London which Lloyd Swick credits with planting the seed of a like monument here in Ottawa.  Though perhaps not as impressive as its London counterpart I find it a fitting tribute to the animals who - as we are reminded on the London memorial - had no choice.

A click on the image below will take you to the website of the Animals in War Dedication which has a wealth of information and stories of the "Beasts of War". 

August 4 - 70: The destruction of the Second Temple in Jerusalem by the Romans.

Lunedi Lunacy

Well they do say the classics should be updated and made relevant to today!

July 14 - 1976: Capital punishment is abolished in Canada.

Salzburger Zeitung 2014 #3

Though the food, wine and sights of Salzburg are part of what draws me back so often to this lovely city, central to it all has always been the music.

Whither it was in those early years for the Summer Festival, the Mozart-werk one winter or the visits to the Pfingstenfestspeile that started in 2008 the main attraction has always been the music - and the music makers.

As with any Festival there are going to be banner years and then there will be times when the stars - both astrologically and musically - don't quite align.  I'm afraid this year was one of the later.  Given the line-up of performers and works being performed it should have been a success but there was something that didn't quite work.  Perhaps it was the effect of the numerous last minute cancellations for the Stabat Mater and the Rossini Gala; perhaps it was the less than sparkling conducting in the two operas (more of which later); perhaps it was the poor choice of venue for the Otello  - even Verdi's version, as I recall from 1971, did not sit all that well on the sprawling stage of the Grosses Festspeilhaus; or perhaps it was simply that the programme didn't gel the way it was intended to.  Of the six Pfingstenfestspeils we have attended this was the one that had the the least impact musically and left the least impression.

June 8, 2014 - Religiously Rossini

Unlike many of his contemporaries Rossini did not have to rely on the church for his commissions.  He had been a church singer as a child and written several small pieces (a lovely Cantemus domino and the Faith, Hope and Charity triptych) but things of a religious nature - masses, te deums and canticles, Aves and Salves, those corner stones of church music - he composed little.  And oddly, for a composer known for the speed at which he wrote,  the two major "church" pieces that are most often performed took an inordinately long time to complete.  We were to hear both those pieces on, appropriately,  Whitsunday.

Stabat Mater/Libera me - Grosses Festspielhaus 12:00 Uhr

A photo-montage created of Giuseppe Verdi and Gioachino Rossini.
Photo Shop in Paris in 1860. akg-image/De Agostini Picture Lib./A. Dagli Orti

This midday concert had been plagued by cancellations: of the four scheduled soloists only one, Erwin Schrott, actually performed.  As I mentioned previously, several days before the concert the Festival sent out a notice that due to illness Krassimira Stoyanova and Piotr Beczala had been forced to cancel; and that Elīna Garanča felt it was too soon after her encouchement to return to singing.  Maria Agresta, Lawrence Brownlee and Sonia Ganasssi had graciously agreed to replace their ailing colleagues.  Not a bad set of replacements - though it was interesting to note that all three have very different voices from the singers they were replacing - particularly Brownlee.

I'm not sure if this - or the acoustics in the Grosses Festspeilhaus - was the reason that on several occasions Antonio Pappano and his Orchestra dell'Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia overpowered the soloists.  In more than one post I have expressed my fondness and admiration for Santa Cecilia - they were my "home" orchestra for four years but I have also remarked on more than one occasion that Pappano does have a tendency to occasionally pull out the stops and swamp his singers.  However in the past the Orchestra and Chorus  have given me quite a few memorable moments and  I will include this concert - and the one that followed - amongst them, particularly in the Verdi Libera me.

A facsimile of Verdi's  autograph score of the 1869 Libera Me composed for the unperformed
Messa per Rossini.  Later it was to become the starting point for his 1874 Requiem.

Verdi wrote this first attempt at a passage for a Requiem in 1868-9 as his contribution to a commemorative Messa per Rossini  that had been commissioned by Giulio Ricordi as an observation of the first anniversary of the death of the Swan of Pesaro.  Each section of the Requiem was to be composed by a different hand and Verdi choose and completed the concluding words.  Unfortunately a combination of political, financial and "artistic" difficulties meant the mass was never performed.  Verdi was to use the Libera Me as the foundation of his 1874 Requiem to commemorate the death of Alessandro Manzoni.

My friend David mentioned that he had heard Maria Agresta in the difficult and thankless role of Abaigaile in Nabucco in Palermo and asked if, in my opinion, this was the right repertoire for her.   I wasn't sure if he meant the Verdi or the Rossini but frankly she seemed more comfortable in the later than the former.  Given the late replacement she may not have had enough rehearsals in what is a tricky hall but she didn't seem to have the power to ride over the chorus and orchestra.  There was an emotional coolness in her performance - in my mind this work needs some fire and brimstone:  we aren't talking redemption here but being saved from hell fire!  Though by the end she had gained power for that final pleading cry of Domine.   There is nothing quite like the Santa Cecilia Chorus in either its hushed entry after that frightened and frightening soprano entry or in full cry of terror at the day of wrath - I have heard them in the complete Verdi  Requiem three times and this is music that is in their soul and it shows forth even in this brief piece.

Antonio Pappano, soloists and the Orchestra e coro dell'Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia accept the applause after Sunday's performance of a Verdi/Rossini programme at the 2014 Whitsun Festival.   (Photo: Sylvia Letti - Salzburg Festival)

The Rossini Stabat Mater also had a difficult birth: Rossini composed it on commission from Manuel Fernánde Varela.  Rossini revered the Pergolesi setting of the medieval hymn and did not wish to be seen as challenging the older composer.  One of the conditions of the commission was that the manuscript remained with Varela and was not to be published.  Ill health meant that he had not completed the work by the time of its scheduled premiere on Good Friday, April 5, 1833 and half the piece was composed by Rossini's friend Giovanni Tadolini. Rossini was not to complete the work until 1841 and the work that premiered, to great acclaim, on January 7, 1842 was all Rossini.

Again I'm not sure if it was my seat in the Grosses Festspielhuas - about half way back centre - or perhaps a question of balance because of the change of voice timbres from the originally announced singers but there were several instances when again Pappano's orchestra overpowered his singers. This is not to say that it was less than satisfactory performance though perhaps not as self-satisfying as Schrott seemed to find it.

Maria Agresta, Sonia Ganasssi, Antonio Pappano, Lawrence Brownlee and Erwin Schrott seem as
pleased as their audience was with this performance of the Rossini Stabat Mater. (Photo: Sylvia Letti - Salzburg Festival)

I have heard more powerful Cujus animam than Brownlee's but I doubt I will ever find one that touched the heart so closely - the piercing sword was one of sorrow.  Sonia Ganassi is a singer that I heard and enjoyed often during our years in Italy however the last few times I heard her she seemed to have developed a roughness to her singing - whatever the problem was it has been overcome and she was back to a sound like black velvet shot with silver.  Her voice blended well with Agresta in the Quis est homo and both singers gave fine accounts of their respective aria - though again a touch more fire from Agresta in the Inflammatus would not have gone amiss. Schrott (Hot Schrott to his many admirers) gave a heft to the Pro peccatis - rather amusingly being a tall athletic man he  towered over his colleagues and conductor and seemed to take secret delight in it.

Once again the Coro di Santa Cecilia proved to be the backbone of the performance particularly in the hushed delicacy they brought to the lovely "paradisi gloria" passage of the final quartet and chorus.  Aside from those odd moments when the balance favoured the orchestra Pappano conducted a good if,  perhaps, not Festival standard performance.

Petite Messe Solennelle - Stiftung Mozarteum - Grosser Saal - 17:00 uhr

 

Pappano, Brownlee and a small group of the Coro were on double duty for the day with a performance of the Petite Messe Solennelle  scheduled just a few hours after they had finished the midday Stabat Mater. 

As has often been said the work is neither "petite" nor particularly "solenelle" - however it was intended more as a chamber work.  Rossini had set it for 12 singers including four soloists accompanied by two pianos and a harmonium.  It was meant for a church setting however the Papal ban on mixed choirs in church (castrated men where acceptable - fully equipped women not!) meant that it could not be performed as a liturgical act.  Rossini had been in correspondence with Pius IX in an attempt to get the ban lifted but without success.  Fortunately the edict did not apply to private chapels and the first performance took place in the personal chapel of Count and Countess Pillet-Will.  It was intended for family and friends - with Auber, Meyerbeer and Thomas being amongst the later.

The title page of the autograph manuscript of the Petite Messe Solennelle - Rossini specifies the
number of singers and instrumentation he intended. In 1866-67 Rossini expanded the work
for performance by larger forces and orchestra.

The work was  orchestrated by Rossini in1866-67 but the first performance of this expanded version did not take place until three month's after his death on February 28, 1869 - the closest date to his birthday in a non-leap year.  For the Festival performance Pappano choose to use the original chamber version with a larger chorus and four soloists.  Though the Grosser Saal of the Mozarteum may not be as "homey" as the chapel chez Pillet-Will the atmosphere was still intimate.

Pappano led from the piano (Pamela Bullock was the second pianist and Ciro Visco, the chorus master, played the harmonium) and in the Offertorium Ritornelle proved to be an accomplished pianist.   It was a simple, clean and intimate performance - just as Rossini intended.

Michele Pertusi, Lawrence Brownlee, Vesselina Kasarova, Eva Mei, Pamela Bullock, Antonio Pappano and
Ciro Visco acknowledge our applause after the Whitsunday performance of the Petite Messe Solonnelle. 
Several members of my beloved Coro di Santa Cecilia are in the background.  (Photo: Sylvia Letti - Salzburg Festival)

There is a quote somewhere - attributed to I know not who - that all this work requires is a small space (√ the Grosser Saal) two pianos ( √ Pappano and Pamela Bullock), a harmonium (√ chorus master Ciro Visco) a small chorus (√ Coro di Santa Cecilia) and the four greatest singers on earth .....  there we run into a slight problem.  Eva Mei, Vesselina Kasarova, Lawrence Brownlee and Michele Pertusi are all well-known names in opera circles and are fine singers all but on this occasion two of them seemed out of their element.  I knew Mei by reputation and a TV-cast of La Traviata live from Zurich Central Railway Station which I recall enjoying but here found her voice pinched and colourless.  Perhaps Pertusi needs a character to hide behind: on stage he can be dynamic but on the three times I have seen him in concert he has proven, as he did here, bland and one dimensional.  If the day's double duty gave Brownlee any problem it wasn't obvious here - an exceptionally fine nuanced performance that was matched by the artistry of Vesselina Kasarova who's Agnus Dei embodied everything that Rossini put into this  "last of my péchés de vieillesse".

And again that remarkable choir from Santa Cecilia proved the backbone of the performance:  joyful, rambunctious (is there anything jollier than that Cum Sancto Spiritu?) and quietly - almost whisperingly - reverential.  And as a sidebar there was an entire cheering section from the larger Coro behind me greeting their colleagues with bravi and foot stomping - as indeed had the audience.  One of the ladies had to tell me that they were part of the Coro; when I said I had lived in Rome and heard every concert they had given during that time and how much I thought of them she gave me a kiss on the cheek and said: Grazie.  A rather nice way to end a performance that was seemed indeed to be for family and friends.

Postscript:  In his preface to the work Rossini wrote:

Good God—behold completed this poor little Mass—is it indeed sacred music [la musique sacrée] that I have just written, or merely some damned music [la sacré musique]? You know well, I was born for comic opera. Little science, a little heart, that is all. So may you be blessed, and grant me Paradise!

Why do I think if I had one of those mythical dinner parties he would be amongst the guests I would want at table?

July 13 - 1814: The Carabinieri, the national gendarmerie of Italy, is established.

Lunedi Lunacy

It's a scandal I tells ya!  A scandal!

In Europe and on the West Coast topless bathing for men has long been no novelty on public as well as private beaches. But in the more inhibited East a male costume consisting solely of trunks was, until just recently, cause for arrest on almost all public beaches and raised eyebrows on many a private one.
At Atlantic City topless bathing suits are still forbidden, and only this year has Long Island's ultrademocratic Long Beach allowed men to air their backs and chests. This trend which originated on the French Riviera has seriously distressed manufacturers who claim there is little field for originality of design in trunks. For proof of their contention, see Long Beach pictures below.

In some cases - mine let's say - the old styles may well have been the best styles!

July 7 - 1907:  Florenz Ziegfeld, Jr. staged his first Follies on the roof of the New York Theater in New York City.

The Glorious Fourth

No matter what - it's still a Grand Old Flag!

Happy Fourth to all my friends and family in the United States!

More wonderful old postcards such as this one can be found right here!  Many thanks to Dave at Flickr.

July 4 - 1754: French and Indian War: George Washington surrenders Fort Necessity to French Capt. Louis Coulon de Villiers.

Mercoledi Musicale

I realize I have yet to say much about the music we heard at Salzburg last month. Its been a bit of a struggle to catch up with work which is involves writing most of the day and then to come home and continue writing. However I can safely say that the Liedmatinee on the Monday morning given by Joyce DiDonato was the musical highlight of the weekend.  And the highlight of her programme, devoted to Venice, were five of the six songs by Reynaldo Hahn under the title Venezia, chansons en dialecte vénitien. 

Back in May of 2012 I posted an item about that glorious little song cycle and videos featuring Anna Caterina Antonocchi sing five of them.  For some reason Miss DiDonato omitted La Biondina in gondoleta in her set while Anna Cat didn't give us La primavera.

Of the six the most delightful - and most often performed - is La barcheta (the Little Boat).  Rather than given preference to either lady - both of whom I treasure as artists - I thought I'd post a wonderful performance by the elegant French baritone Gérard Souzay. 

A translation of Pietro Buratti's text by Lara Sarti can be found here.

Hahn was a friend of Winnaretta Singer,  Princesse Edmond de Polignac.  The Princesse was one of the great patrons of the arts and humanities in early 20th century Europe.  It was on one of his visits to the Polignacs in Venice that Hahn composed his song cycle. The programme for the Salzburg recital included the composer's description of the premiere:

Madame de Béarn asked me to sing - just me and a piano - on the 'Piccoli Canale'.  Just a few gondolas - one or two friends hastily gathered together [..] I was in one boat, lit up for the occasion, with my piano and a couple of oarsmen.  The other gondolas were grouped around us.  We found a place where three canals met beneath three charming bridges and I sang all my Venetian songs.  Gradually passers-by gathered on the bridges: and audience of ordinary people, pressing forward to listen.  The Venetian songs surprised and delighted this little crowd, which made me very happy.  "Ancora, anocra", they called from above.  These songs that were both light and melancholy sounded well beneath the starry skies and I felt that emotion which reverberates in the composer's heart when it has truly been shared by those around him.

Reynaldo Hahn - without his piano - photographed in a Piccoli Canale much
like the one where he first performed his Venezia song cycle.

If I had money - that old familiar cry - I would love to recreate that moment: a singer, a few gondolas, one equipped with a piano and a small group of friends.   And on a magical night in a quiet canal listen to these "light and melancholy" melodies floating over the waters of one of the cities I love most in the world.   Well music was meant to make us dream!

July 2 - 1777: Vermont becomes the first American territory to abolish slavery.

July 1, 1867 - July 1, 2014

Back in 1867 the new born Canada was too young to have its own Coat of Arms and the Royal Coat of Arms severed as the symbol of regal authority over our Dominion.  Though heraldic devises had been granted to the colonies of Nova Scotia and Newfoundland in the 17th century everyone (or at least the College of Arms) had forgotten about that.  In 1868 Arms were granted to the four founding Provinces: Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Quebec and Ontario. A shield bearing those four arms surmounted by a crown were to serve as the Coat of Arms on the Red Ensign (our unofficial flag for many years).

As more provinces joined the Confederation their Coats of Arms were added - very unofficially and without Royal Grant - to the design. By the time Alberta and Saskatchewan achieved provincial status in September of 1905 the design had become busy to the extreme.  Though displayed on the Ensign the design had never been given royal approval.  Finally in 1921 - after much maneuvering and a bit of intervention by Winston Churchill - a new Coat of Arms was granted by George V, who also by that Royal Proclamation declared red and white to be our national colours.

The Coat of Arms was to remain unchanged until in 1957 the colour of the leaves was changed to red and the Tudor crown was replaced by that of Edward the Confessor.  A further change was made in 1994 when a banner bearing the phrase Desiderantes meliorem patriam (They Desire a Better Country), the motto of the Order of Canada, was added.  Recently it has been suggested that symbols indicative of our First Nations, Inuit and Metis heritage be included.

Like our country the Arms of Her Majesty as Queen of Canada (this link will take you to a complete description of the devices) has evolved reflect the changes in our land, and the events and the peoples that have molded it. Happy 147th Birthday Canada; may you, like your Coat of Arms continue to change and evolve and always for the better.


1873: Prince Edward Island joins the Canadian Confederation.